Suddenly, sliding doors, cardboard boxes, and parts of a playground popped out of nowhere, forming a small base around Hydemary. This brought to mind the image of a certain blue robot cat digging for the right items out of a mysterious pocket.
“That’s a rip-off of my magicka,” Suimei explained.
Felmenia nodded. “Yes. I could tell right away.”
Even with wind magic soaring in and earth magic slamming against it, the secret base’s outer wall didn’t budge.
“Okay, I guess it’s my turn now,” Hydemary declared.
A gale surged around her; she was unleashing her mana. After an intense shock wave, the dolls around her let go of the soldiers, joined hands to form a big circle, and started dancing, just like a Mayim Mayim folk dance.
“Suimei-dono, Suimei-dono,” Felmenia said excitedly, “what kind of magicka is that?”
“It’s hard to tell at a glance, but if you analyze the spell, you should be able to figure it out,” he told her.
“Hmm... You mean the toys. A child’s party... A festival of playthings... It requires a whole lot of toys to be present...”
“You got it,” Suimei confirmed. “So, where do these toys come from?”
“She’s not pulling out what’s already hers, so...” Felmenia mused. “She procures them from her surroundings?”
“Exactly.”
Before long, every weapon in the arena turned into toys. Like a roomful of cheerful party favors being set off at once, fancy-sounding pop, pop, pop noises could be heard throughout the training grounds. Everything from swords to staffs—anything the soldiers were wielding—turned into the kind of toys that children would play with. And all toys in the world were under Hydemary’s control.
From this point, the bout was completely one-sided. It couldn’t even be called a fight. The swordsmen were using toy swords, and their once sturdy armor had turned into cotton-stuffed felt. No matter how hard they swung their weapons, they couldn’t hurt their opponent. And the mages were wielding toy staffs. They made sounds and light but could do no more than delight children. No magic was coming out of them. There was no way any of them could accomplish anything.
“Fighting her like that is impossible...” Felmenia commented.
“Yeah. Her fighting style largely concentrates on neutralizing her opponent’s capabilities,” Suimei explained. “The same applies to her big teddy bear and the Vorpal Sword. A child’s dream, a tiny toy box packed to the rim—that’s her magicka.”
“I see. Meaning she transforms everything into her own playground?”
Suimei nodded to confirm Felmenia’s conjecture.
“Hey... Isn’t this settled, then?” Hatsumi asked.
“It sure is,” Suimei agreed. “But I told her to be thorough, so I’m gonna let her keep going ’til the end.”
“How merciless,” Hatsumi said.
“Never do things half-assed,” Suimei said. “That’s coming from personal experience.”
“Sounds convincing coming from you,” Hatsumi added wryly.
And as the soldiers were being made complete fools of by her magicka, Hydemary started her next chant.
“Tanzen, tanzen, tanzen mit allen. Es ist der Beginn eines lustigen Tanz.”
[Dance, dance, dance with all. This is the start of a fun dance.]
“Erk.” Suimei made a weird noise upon hearing the spell.
“Suimei-dono?” Felmenia prompted.
“Well... I did say no mercy...” Suimei grumbled. “But using that...? I mean, it’ll make things real clear, but still...”
The circle of dolls scattered and ran about, playing with the soldiers and grabbing them once more. The soldiers tried to ward them off, but the dolls took their hands and forced them to dance.
Some they held by the waist or shoulder to perform the Jenkka.
Some they faced, hand in hand, dancing the Korobushka.
Once touched by a doll, the soldiers all started dancing awkwardly, like marionettes. This was compulsion magicka. Bound by the dolls’ curse, they were forced to move at Hydemary’s whim. And, because the size difference between them and their dance partners was so large, the soldiers were forced to contort themselves into weird postures, putting an even larger strain on their muscles.
“Tanzen, tanzen, tanzen bis du stirbst. Karens rote Schuhe. Bis du dein Bein mit einer Axt abschneidet, bis ich die eines Engels höre, hört nie auf.”
[Dance, dance, dance ’til you die. Karen’s red shoes. Until your legs are chopped off with an ax, until you hear the angel’s call, you cannot stop.]
It was a terrifying sight to behold. It reduced naysayers and critics of her flamboyant magicka to despairing fools. Once caught in this spell—based on the Danish fairy tale “The Red Shoes” by Hans Christian Anderson—no matter how powerful the magician, her target could do nothing but dance until they died.
“I-I can’t do anything?! My body’s moving on its own?!”
“E-Enough! I get it! I get it already!”
“S-Save me!”
The soldiers started screaming, but didn’t stop dancing.
“Tanzen, tanzen, tanzen wahnsinnig und fallen herunter. Egal ob sie hungrig oder schläfrig sind, die Füße ticken im Rhythmus.”
[Dance, dance, dance madly ’til you fall. Even if hungry or sleepy, your feet tap to the rhythm.]
The soldiers continued their dance with the dolls. It was a charming sight from one perspective, but straight out of a horror flick from another. For those being forced to dance, however, it was an entirely different hell.
The one responsible could no longer keep watching, and she turned to Suimei.
“Suimei-kun, should I stop yet?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he told her. “Keep going ’til they can’t scream anymore. If you leave any of them in fighting condition, the big shots who chose them will probably kick up a fuss.”
“Okey dokey,” Hydemary acknowledged.
“Hey, Suimei?” Hatsumi prodded him with an elbow. “Won’t they be unable to fight at all after this?”
“We can just make up for them ourselves,” Suimei said. “Having a few more useless guys on our side won’t make much of a difference. Just let them take a break for a while.”
He was being rather harsh, but nobody would be able to tell them what to do after such an irrefutable display of power. If someone were to successfully hold command over Suimei’s group, they’d be severely limited in their tactics and capabilities in their war. And the point of this whole show was to be granted the right to act independently.
Some time later, still holding hands with the dolls, the soldiers were completely limp on the ground.
“Hm? Over already? All bark and no bite, huh?” Hydemary commented.
The self-proclaimed genius provoked all those around her as if this were nature’s course. Her extreme innocence was like a blow to the heart for her opponents.
“What’s the right line at times like these?” she mused. “Oh right. Whatta buncha wimpy punks!”
“Where’d you learn that?! You can’t say things like that!” After Suimei scolded the seven-year-old, he turned to the officers. “We good now?”
“Y-Yes...”
They looked completely dazed at being shown such a clear gulf in power—they never could’ve predicted this. Or maybe their minds were muddled by witnessing such unknown mysteries. In contrast, Almadious addressed Hydemary directly.
“Splendidly done,” he said.
“It was nothing,” Hydemary boasted, twirling her magic wand. “I’d be happy if you could praise how cute my magicka is, though.”
She was being awfully casual with the king, but she was seven, so there was no helping that.
“Anyway, your magicka isn’t affected at all, huh?” Suimei observed.
“My magicka is different from yours, after all,” Hydemary said, puffing out her chest. “The foundation for my magicka is none other than myself, so this is only natural.”
If only she could’ve made a properly triumphant expression, this would’ve been adorable.
“I’m gonna have to find a way to fight properly too, and quick,” Suimei said.
“Any ideas?” Hydemary asked.
“I was given a hint, but still...”
“You just have to make over there, over here.” Those were the words of the Society’s leader. What could they mean? If taken literally, it sounded like the perfect solution, but the pieces as they were simply didn’t fit.